There's a gun upstairs,
I'm itching to take it in my hands,
Point it at my head,
And pull the trigger.
I just don't know what else to do!
My heart leaks for him,
And yet I know it's a waste of time.
I wish I had the gun so I could use it,
It would end all of the pain,
And make everything go away.
There's no point in going on,
With my pathetic excuse for a life.
It would just make things easier,
If I just pulled the trigger.
